i just woke up. this is not exactly true: i have been up for some time, but i have been dragging myself behind me. i had to wait for tea to shake me awake.

i couldn't sleep last night. i was on my back, then side, then back - the cord from my headphones twisting around me. i was listening to radiohead's idioteque, the stink from the litterbox pushed it's way behind my eyes and cheekbones. i could hear the cat pushing through the clay sand: my skin was dry and i imagined it was peeling mica, my joints brittle feldspar, and my stomach was filled with tar and black oil. i sloshed when i rolled over, and my rock skin split and dusted sheets with electrical insulators, with glitter for the floor of the circus maximus. i moved, moved again, and waited for the sun to come in my window. i waited for heat.

i woke up, stiff and hot, to find my elements all turned to iron, my u/d/s quarks all in a row.